


A good listener

by idanato



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Dorte the horse - Freeform, Fluff, Gen, Getting to Know Each Other, Pig Metaphors
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-10
Updated: 2020-12-10
Packaged: 2021-03-10 00:14:24
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,235
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27985197
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/idanato/pseuds/idanato
Summary: Marianne unintentionally watches as Sylvain gets dumped in the stables
Relationships: Marianne von Edmund & Sylvain Jose Gautier
Comments: 6
Kudos: 24





	A good listener

**Author's Note:**

  * For [LaceKyoko1138](https://archiveofourown.org/users/LaceKyoko1138/gifts).



Sylvain concentrated on the young woman’s face as a single question swirled in his mind, what was her name again? He had gotten through an entire market date with her without having to use it but she must have realized something was up since she just asked him directly if he knew. He did not.

From the way she was staring at him now, he doubted it mattered if he pulled up her name — _Elisia? Alesa? Isla?_ — from the depths of his mind. Arms crossed, toe tapping, brows furrowed, yes there would be no second date here and this one was definitely over.

“Sylvain Gautier, everyone was right, you are a pig,” she hissed as her stare intensified. She was a little scary like this, and Sylvain was almost mournful they would not be doing anything further today. “So why don’t you just move here to the stables, and live with the animals where you belong?”

Harsh. Sylvain sucked in a breath, “Elsa?”

“Oh my goddess, no. It’s Eliza, you idiot,” said his disappointed former date before storming off without so much as a look back in his direction.

Sylvain whistled. That was some bad luck, but to his credit Elsa was very similar to Eliza. Sylvain looked to the nearest horse, “Some people, am I right?” He smirked as he looked around the desolate stables. At least there were no witnesses to tattle to Ingrid.

As Sylvain’s eyes traced down he saw a pair of human feet set pigeon toed between the horse hooves. Sylvain stretched up to look over the horse’s body, and saw a head of frizzy blue hair. One of his fellow Officers’ Academy students had her face buried in the side of the horse and was standing exceptionally still as if to avoid detection.

At least he knew this one’s name. “Marianne von Edmund?”

Her head slowly peeled up as her watery brown eyes met his own. “Uh, oh,” she murmured, caught in the act of watching him get dumped. “You-you know _my_ name?”

Sylvain knew her name because he had made a list of girls to watch out for at this school and prior to coming, Marianne von Edmund had been at the very top. House Edmund was an upstart keen on rising. She was the sole daughter, and on her delicate shoulders rested a great task: net them a crest through any means possible. That was what he had assumed anyway.

In practice Marianne was painfully withdrawn and showed no interest in him, and no interest in anyone really. Frankly she looked positively miserable to be at Garreg Mach at all. “Of course I know your name Marianne, we have class together,” said Sylvain easily. He was pretty sure they did anyway; she had a tendency to blend in with the furniture.

She stared at him and said nothing. Sylvain noted the nervous way her fingers pawed at the horse’s coat, and the tremble in her lip. Maybe she was merely suffering second hand embarrassment after watching him get dumped? “Sorry you had to see me make a jerk of myself, that can’t have been pleasant,” said Sylvain in an attempt to be friendly.

“I didn’t see, I just heard,” said Marianne under her breath.

Sylvain rested his arms on the horse’s back and continued to work on figuring Marianne out. “So are you on stable duty or something?”

“N-no,” said Marianne as she focused back on her task of brushing the horse she’d been hiding behind.

Sylvain pursed his lips and waited a few more moments in case she had anything to add. She did not elaborate. “Are you meeting someone here?”

Marianne looked up in a slight panic over him continuing to talk to her, “No, I’m just here, by myself.”

“Huh,” said Sylvain as he considered the concept of just being alone with some horses. He always had someone nearby — Felix, Ingrid, a random date — and spent as little time on his own as he could. If he wasn’t with someone he was on his way to find them. “Do you want any help with this?”

“No,” said Marianne quietly as she hung her head. Her posture was always curled up and downcast, and Sylvain could not help but want to pep her up.

He plucked up a curry comb anyway and tried to come up with a suitable conversation topic. “Who is this horse?”

Marianne stared at him for a few moments before looking at the horse with fondest expression he’d ever seen cross her visage, “This is Dorte.” She returned her eyes to her task, “He is a very good listener.”

“So you like speaking to animals?” clarified Sylvain. This was the most he’d ever heard her speaking at all.

Marianne blanched at the suggestion. She looked like she was going to cause herself to faint with the way she was holding her breath. Sylvain had to think fast on his feet to set her nerves at ease, “I myself have recently been compared to an animal, so you know you can talk to me. Just picture me here as a pig.” Sylvain pushed up the end of his noise and let out a deep oink for her benefit.

Marianne emitted a surprised and nervous giggle at the sound. “Pigs are very noble creatures,” whispered Marianne once she’d recovered from her shock at his display. “They’re extremely intelligent, they just have an unfair reputation.”

“Yeah I can relate,” said Sylvain as he continued to comb Dorte. Alright, perhaps he had earned a smidgen of his poor reputation with his behavior.

Marianne’s laughter died away leaving her normal stoic self behind. “We call them fat and lazy, but we’re the ones feeding them too much and not letting them move around. They’re only dirty because they’re kept in mud, by us.”

“Pigs really never stood a chance did they?” said Sylvain with a sigh. Born with a crest, he never did either. Or perhaps that was a story he told himself to excuse his behavior; it was difficult to unpack what was him and what wasn’t sometimes.

Marianne shook her head and focused on Dorte. Sylvain let the comfortable silence between them grow. He didn’t want to push her too hard but he was also keenly curious as to what she was really like. She seemed perfectly lovely, just painfully shy. After a while Sylvain had finished brushing his side of the horse. He returned the curry comb to its place, “Say Marianne, it was really nice to hear you laugh and see you smile.”

Marianne looked up at him in confusion. “I’m sorry?”

“You laughed at my pig impression,” said Sylvain. He paused and wondered if he could get her to grin again, “You know, when I was really _hamming_ it up earlier.”

Marianne’s mouth stayed firmly shut but her chest heaved with a laugh attempting to escape her. Sylvain gave her his most sincere smile and shrugged, “Well if you ever need a human animal to talk to I promise I would listen close to whatever you have to say.” Dorte let out a whinny and shook out his neck in response.

Her eyes dropped back to the ground but the smallest little bit of her lips had turned up, “I’m not sure I have anything to say worth hearing, but I’ll keep your offer in mind.” Sylvain genuinely hoped she would.

**Author's Note:**

> Happy holidays Lacey!


End file.
